


There you are, turning winter into spring

by thegirl20



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26024350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirl20/pseuds/thegirl20
Summary: Your soulmate's first words to you will be revealed by the appearance of a tattoo on your body at puberty. Tissaia's tattoo is a constant source of embarrassment.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 186
Kudos: 331





	1. Chapter 1

Most people discover a tattoo somewhere on their body when they hit puberty. In some mystical hand, your soulmate's first words to you are inked on your skin, indelible and unchanging.

Some people _don't_ find a tattoo. It's rare, but not unheard of. Those people don't have that one person that fate has selected for them. So, when Tissaia tells people she doesn't have a tattoo, she becomes either an object of pity, or a source of fascination. A unicorn.

What they don't know is that she's lying. Her tattoo sits along the base of her spine, the script trailing over the top of her backside. It's what has become known in recent years as a 'tramp stamp'. She didn't even know it had appeared until some girls in the showers at school took great glee in pointing it out to her and everyone else in the class. She was teased and bullied mercilessly after that, and when she moved away to university, she decided she'd never tell anyone about it.

After all, why would she want the world to know that her soulmate's first words to her will be ' _Fuck me sideways'_?

* * *

It's not difficult to keep the tattoo away from prying eyes. She never wears dresses or bathing suits with low backs. She makes sure any blouses or t-shirts she wears are long enough that they won't ride up. The trend towards 'mom jeans' as the youngsters call them has been a saving grace.

Her self-consciousness about it means that any sexual encounters take place in the dark, or while clothed. Not that she bothers much with that kind of thing anymore. She sees little point when she's destined to be with some foul-mouthed hooligan regardless of her own choices.

* * *

She's running late, which is unlike her. A ridiculous set of circumstances has left her with very little time to get to her train platform, and she's hurrying through the crowds at the station as best she can, ducking and weaving into spaces. She spots a clear way through and picks up her pace, determined to make that train. Unfortunately, another body steps into her way and she barrels straight into it, knocking them both to the ground with a resounding thud. Pain radiates up Tissaia's arm from where her elbow takes the brunt of the fall. Predictably, nobody stops to help.

"Fuck me sideways!"

A sore arm is suddenly the least of her concerns and she turns to find a woman with the deepest blue eyes she's ever seen looking back at her. She's absolutely gorgeous. Long dark hair frames a face with bone structure people would kill for. Tissaia's breath catches when she notices a trickle of blood coming from just beside her eyebrow.

"You're bleeding," she says, pushing aside the other matter for now, though she doesn't miss the widening of those eyes at her words. It's real, then. It's her. She swallows. "I'm so sorry, I have wipes in my bag."

They both get to their feet, Tissaia finding her legs unsteady. She takes the stranger's arm and moves them out of the main thoroughfare to a quieter spot, tucked away from the bustling crowds. She fumbles in her bag for the little pouch she carries a very basic first aid kit in. She chances an upwards glance and finds the woman looking at her with a mixture of wonder and amusement. The scrutiny makes her uncomfortable and she returns her attention to removing an antiseptic wipe from its wrapper.

Holding it up, she hesitates. "May I?"

"Go ahead." The woman nods.

With as much care as she can, despite her shaking hands, Tissaia applies the wipe to the small cut. She winces when the woman hisses at the sting.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, trying to work quickly to get rid of the blood and clean the wound. She discards the wipe in a nearby bin and pulls out a clean tissue, offering it to the woman. "You should hold that against it until it stops bleeding."

"Thanks." The woman does as she's told, dabbing at the cut until only tiny spots of blood appear on the tissue.

Tissaia clears her throat, unsure of the etiquette of this situation. The enormity of it is setting in now, climbing up her throat and threatening to choke her. Perhaps she could just walk away. There's no rule about having to identify yourself to your soulmate. She could just make an excuse and turn around and get on the next train.

Then the woman pulls up her sleeve and takes away any notion Tissaia had of not acknowledging what is sitting between them. There, in perfect script on the inside of her forearm, are Tissaia's words. ' _You're bleeding'._

Her throat tightens and she reaches out, her fingers brushing over the mark. And, just like those stupid romance novels Tissaia claims to hate but secretly loves, there's a sense of familiarity as she traces this stranger's skin. It's like her body knows this body, on a visceral, primal level. Now the connection is there, she doesn't want to break it, she only wants to intensify it, so she wraps her fingers around a delicate wrist and holds on, hearing the other woman's breath catch.

"Yennefer," the woman says, and Tissaia looks up. "That's my name."

"Yennefer," Tissaia whispers, the word feels comfortable in her mouth, like she's said it a million times.

"I, uh-" Yennefer bites her lip. "I can't remember exactly what my first words to you were, but I feel like there were swear words in it."

A laugh makes its way out of Tissaia's throat. "Just the one, dear, but a rather colourful one."

"Shit, I'm sorry," Yennefer says, shuffling her feet. "Not the _best_ first impression I could make."

"I think you're doing fine," Tissaia confides, utterly charmed by this woman. "I'm Tissaia, by the way."

"Tissaia," Yennefer repeats, then nods as if this is acceptable to her. "Can- can I see yours?"

The old shame rises in her chest and she takes a step away, letting go of Yennefer's wrist. "It's not, uh, it's not accessible." She clears her throat. "In public."

"Oh." Yennefer's pupils flare and it makes Tissaia's belly tighten. "Then maybe I could get your number so I can see it in private sometime?"

Her immediate instinct is to say no, to back away and hide the blemish as she always has. But she finds herself reciting her number when Yennefer gets her phone out. Her own phone vibrates in her jacket pocket.

"I texted you so you've got my number now," Yennefer says. Her eyes stray to somewhere over Tissaia's shoulder and she sighs. "Listen, I've got to run, I'm late for an appointment. But I'll call you tonight, yeah?"

She's already looking forward to it in a way that's quite frightening. Usually social encounters, especially where they relate in any way to dating, fill her with dread. But she finds herself wanting nothing more than to be close to this woman. She nods. "I'll look forward to it," she says. "And I really am sorry about causing you bodily injury on our first encounter."

Yennefer shrugs and graces her with another of those dazzling smiles. "It's fine. I'd always wondered if it'd be a paramedic or something, you know?" She gestures around them. "Being knocked over by a tiny woman in a train station was never a scene I pictured, but I've got to say, I'm into it."

Tissaia laughs. "Well, I'd always feared that mine would be some vulgar proposition in a sweaty nightclub, so it was quite refreshing to hear it the way I did."

Brow crinkling in a frown, Yennefer tilts her head. "What was it I actually said again? I wasn't kidding when I said I couldn't remember."

Glancing around, Tissaia leans in. They're closer than they've ever been, now, and it's intoxicating. Yennefer smells of something sharp and enticing. Her body is warm, her curves calling out to Tissaia. But she steels herself, going up on her tiptoes to whisper in Yennefer's ear. "Fuck me sideways."

"Fuck," Yennefer whimpers, turning her face slightly so that her nose brushes Tissaia's cheek. "And you've got that written on your body? Somewhere nobody gets to see?"

"Yes," Tissaia tells her, willing herself not to blush.

Yennefer's hand falls to the small of her back, like she knows, like the ink is summoning her somehow. When she speaks again, her lips brush the side of Tissaia's.

"Nobody but me."

Tissaia closes her eyes, letting their noses bump together. "Nobody but you." That statement should feel ridiculous as it falls from her mouth. She's _literally_ just met this woman and here she is promising her body to her in a way she never has with anyone. Although, she supposes, that's how things work in a relationship that's ordained by destiny.

She pulls back slightly, enough to look into Yennefer's eyes. They both move at the same time, lips meeting in a heated kiss. And, _oh_ , romance novels never got _close_ to describing this feeling. Tissaia had always scoffed at friends who found their soulmate and suddenly felt 'complete'. But that's exactly the word that comes to mind now. The world feels _right_. She feels stronger, more robust, like she can take on anything and win, as long as Yennefer is holding her hand. The emotions threaten to sweep her away, and she gently extracts herself from the kiss.

"Oh. Oh fuck." Yennefer's got a hand on her chest, panting. "Does it-" She swallows. "Does it feel like this for you too? Like you've got asthma and you're having a heart attack and you're gonna puke all at once?"

Tissaia's nose wrinkles, as she catches her breath. "Well, I'm not sure I'd have put it quite like _that_ ," she begins. "But yes. It's-" She covers her own racing heart. "It's quite overwhelming."

"Jesus _Christ_ , imagine what sex is going to be like," Yennefer says, eyes wide.

Tissaia is hit with a flash of intense sensation, almost like a premonition. She stumbles back and leans against the wall. "That's- that's, um-"

"It's _not_ what I should be thinking about when I'm on my way to meet my agent, I'll tell you that much." Yennefer blows out a shaky breath and closes her eyes. "And, of course, now it's _all_ I can think about."

"Agent?" Tissaia asks, trying to get them both off the topic of sex. "Are you an actress?"

Yennefer opens her eyes and smiles. "God, no. I'm a writer." She tilts her head. "Well, I'm trying to be."

"A writer? How fascinating," Tissaia says. "What do you write?"

"Fantasy, mostly," Yennefer tells her. Tissaia's eyebrows go up and Yennefer grins. "No, not _that_ kind. Not Fifty Shades. More like, you know, goblins and witches and curses, that kind of thing."

"How wonderful," Tissaia says, with a smile. "I'm not creative in the slightest."

"No? What do you do?" Yennefer asks.

"I'm a biochemist," Tissaia says, rolling her eyes. "Very boring, I'm afraid."

"Are you kidding?" Yennefer shakes her head, taking a couple of steps closer again, like a magnet. "Scientists are like modern day wizards! You mix things together just to see if they'll explode! I think that's the height of creativity."

"Modern day wizard, eh?" Tissaia smiles at this very stereotypical view of a scientist's life. Her own is much more mundane. "Well, that's a very generous description. And I haven't made anything explode for _years_."

"No?" Yennefer cocks her head. "Well, you came close with my heart just then."

Tissaia's breath is stolen from her lungs, but before she can respond, an announcement comes over the tannoy, signalling the imminent arrival of the next train to London and Tissaia notices Yennefer frown.

"You should go," she tells her, relieved her voice doesn't sound as choked as she thought it might. "You have an appointment."

Sighing, Yennefer nods. "Yeah. My agent's such a dick, I wouldn't put it past him to delay my publication date if I skipped this meeting."

"Then you must go," Tissaia says, with a firm nod. The mere thought of being separated from Yennefer is distressing and she scolds herself for being so ridiculous. She paints on a smile. "You can call me later, to tell me how your meeting went. And-" She hesitates. "I mean, if you'd like, we could-"

"I'd love to go on a date with you," Yennefer says, with a grin. "I think we're pretty obliged to, right?"

"I suppose we are," Tissaia says, with a smile, her eyes drifting to Yennefer's lips. How she longs to be kissing her again.

And then she is. Yennefer's arms are around her waist, pulling her close. Her own go around Yennefer's neck, deepening the connection. Those same emotions from the first time sweep over her, leaving her with a sense of calm, of belonging.

And a deep, tugging _need_.

Once again, she's the one to pull away, leaving them both breathless and flustered. "You have to go," she murmurs. "Or you'll miss your train."

"I know," Yennefer whines. She lifts a hand to Tissaia's face, tracing down her jaw with her thumb to the cleft in her chin. "I know it's all this destiny stuff, or whatever, but I really feel like I've known you my whole life." She smiles. "But hey, I get to spend the rest of it with you."

Any such thoughts about permanent commitment would previously have had Tissaia running for the hills. But she agrees with Yennefer wholeheartedly. The future has become a welcoming place, waiting to usher them into a new life together.

"Yes," she says, pushing at Yennefer's hips. "But you _need_ to go. I can't have your literary career go up in flames because you wanted one last kiss."

"Fine," Yennefer says, darting forward and pecking Tissaia's lips. She gathers up her bag from where it's been discarded at their feet, along with Tissaia's own. "But I'm calling you as soon as I'm out of this meeting, so try not to be in the middle of setting anything on fire, yeah?" She starts walking backwards towards the ticket barrier. "And I'm taking you out tonight. Dinner. Dancing. Whatever you want."

Tissaia smiles and shakes her head. She thankfully refrains from responding with the first thing that comes into her mind, which is ' _I just want you_ '. Instead, she waves Yennefer off. "Go. We can make plans later."

With a final grin, Yennefer turns and starts to jog to the right platform. Tissaia watches until she can no longer see her in the crowd of people milling around.

"Well," she murmurs to herself. "Fuck me sideways."


	2. Chapter 2

Tissaia gets to work late, which is already unlike her, and spends the remainder of the morning distracted and jumpy. Eventually she retires to her office and shutters herself in, dropping her head to the desk.

She genuinely had not believed the hype about soulmates. She'd listened to friends rave about finding theirs over the years with a sceptical heart. How could it be possible to have that kind of connection with someone one has just met? Connection is something Tissaia has struggled with all her life.

And yet, when she had looked into Yennefer's eyes earlier in the day, she had felt a calm serenity overtake her body. Just being close to her was comforting, and exciting, and many other confusing emotions. Tissaia's breath shudders out of her body as she remembers Yennefer's touch. She craves it now.

She hopes that this calms down somewhat. She can't go through the rest of her life this distracted whenever she's not in Yennefer's immediate vicinity. She closes her eyes. Although, she can't imagine that being near Yennefer will be a _less_ distracting state of affairs. Yes, it'll have to calm down. She knows other people who have found their soulmate and they still manage to function as human beings.

There's a knock on her door and she immediately sits upright, straightening out the contents of her desk and clearing her throat.

"Yes?"

Triss Merigold, one of Tissaia's most promising employees, sticks her head around the door and smiles. It's not her usual, bright smile, but one laced with concern.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course." Tissaia gestures to the chair opposite her desk, meant for such visits. "Is something wrong?"

Triss closes the door and comes to sit down. She shoves her hands under her thighs, which Tissaia knows is to stop her from fidgeting. "I was going to ask you that question."

"Me?" Tissaia frowns. So it hasn't gone unnoticed, then. She tries to assume her best neutral expression and shakes her head. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Really?" Triss is unconvinced. "Tissaia, I've never known you to be late in the three years I've worked with you. And you've been distracted all morning. It's very out of character and I just-" She bites her lip. "I know we're not close friends, or anything, what with you being my boss, but I wanted you to know if you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you."

Tissaia can't help but smile at this sweet offer. To be fair, Triss probably drew the short straw and was forced to come in and check on her, but it's nice, nonetheless. She folds her hands together on the desk and leans forward.

"I very much appreciate the offer, Triss," she says. "But there is honestly nothing wrong."

"Okay," Triss says, dragging the word out, her brow creased. "So, you being late and then acting like a completely different person...that's just normal, is it?"

"How have I-" Tissaia begins, but then cuts herself off. She knows she's been acting strangely. She sighs; they'll likely find out soon enough. "Fine. I met someone on the way in."

Triss tilts her head. "Met someone? Someone you know?"

"No." Tissaia lifts a piece of paper from her desk, casting her eye over it. "My, uh, soulmate, actually."

" _What?"_ Triss springs from her chair, knocking it over. She clasps her hands together at her chest, wide eyed. "Your soulmate? But-" She frowns. "-you said you didn't have one. You said you never got a tattoo."

Tissaia flushes. "Yes, well, that's not quite accurate." She rolls her eyes. "It's not at all accurate, in fact. I do have a tattoo. I just never wanted anyone to ask to see it, so I said I didn't have one."

Righting her seat and dropping back into it, Triss seems flummoxed. As well she might be. Most people are only too keen to shove their tattoo in people's faces, hypothesising about the situations in which they might meet their soulmate. Or, the ones who have already met go to great lengths to tell you their meeting story and how the long awaited words were uttered.

Triss' smile slowly comes back. "And now you've met your soulmate," she whispers. "How wonderful!"

Tissaia resists the urge to roll her eyes, as has been her standard response to most things soulmate related for her whole life. She's quite glad Triss came in, actually. She never thought she'd be one to gush and gossip over this kind of thing, but she finds herself wanting to talk about her encounter. She's broken from her thoughts when Triss continues.

"So, how did it happen?" she asks, leaning on Tissaia's desk and grinning. "Was it very romantic?"

"It depends whether you think barging into someone and causing them a head injury is romantic," Tissaia muses. It had felt romantic to her, but saying it out loud makes it sound otherwise.

"A head injury?" Triss tilts her head. "You banged your head." She nods, like this explains Tissaia's behaviour, then frowns. "Shouldn't you have gone to the hospital to get checked?"

"I wasn't the one with the head injury, dear," Tissaia tells her. "Yennefer-" It's utterly ridiculous, but she feels her lips twist upwards, just from saying her name. "-ended up bleeding from our encounter."

"Yennefer," Triss breathes. "What a beautiful name."

Nodding, Tissaia smiless. "Yes. Yes, it is."

"What's she like?" Triss presses. "What were her first words? What were yours?"

Panic flares briefly in Tissaia's stomach, as always when someone mentions the damn tattoo, but it's not as fierce as it was. She's now in full possession of the facts. There's no supposition or guesswork involved in those words. She knows the context and she knows her own response. Knowledge has taken away the power those words had to hurt her.

She smiles at Triss, a slight warmth in her cheeks because she doesn't usually swear in front of her subordinates unless something has gone very wrong in the laboratory.

"Please do bear in mind that I had just barrelled into her and knocked her over," Tissaia warns, pressing her lips together. "Her first words to me were ' _Fuck me sideways_ '."

A barking laugh escapes Triss' throat and she covers her mouth with both hands. Once composed, she removes them, her eyes still dancing with mirth. "Oh my _God_ , I love her already," she says. "And what did you say?"

"' _You're bleeding_ '." Tissaia lifts her eyebrows. "Hardly the stuff of fairytales, is it?"

"Well, at least it's different," Triss says. Her own tattoo is, like many, very bland. ' _Excuse me, is this seat taken?'_ Tissaia has heard the mutterings about Triss confusing quite a number of people, mainly passengers on buses and trains, for her soulmate, but she has yet to find them. "Tell me about her."

Opening her mouth to speak, Tissaia pauses, realising that she doesn't know much at all about Yennefer. Not even her surname. And yet, at the same time, she _feels_ like she knows her on a deeper level than she's ever known a living soul.

"She's a writer," she says, staying on safe territory. "She was on her way to meet her agent in London. She writes about wizards and elves and things. Fantasy."

Triss nods. "What does she look like?"

Tissaia flushes and dips her head to hide her smile as an image of Yennefer swims into her mind. "She's...well, beautiful is an inadequate description." She glances up and clears her throat. "She's breathtaking."

Placing a hand over her heart, Triss tilts her head. "I kind of meant what colour are her hair and eyes, but that was lovely."

"Oh." Tissaia swallows, still unused to this personal talk at work. "Her hair is black and her eyes are a very odd colour of blue. Almost purple."

"She sounds-"

Tissaia's phone starts ringing and she scrambles to pick it up, her hands are shaking as she checks the number and sees it's Yennefer. She stands and answers the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

Hearing Yennefer's voice floods her with happiness and she idly notes she probably just got a heavy hit of dopamine. Triss makes a series of hand gestures which she assumes mean that she understands who is calling and that she'll leave Tissaia alone. She gives her a thumbs up as she's closing the door and Tissaia shifts her attention back to the phonecall.

"Sorry, my colleague was in the room. She's gone now." She moves to the window. "How are you? Recovered yet?"

"From meeting you?" Yennefer says. "Not likely."

Tissaia laughs softly. "I meant from the head trauma, dear."

"Oh, yeah. That's fine. I've got a hard head." She can hear Yennefer's smile.

"How did your meeting go?" Tissaia asks. "Did you make it on time?"

"Just about. It went fine. It was pretty pointless, really. He just likes to drag me in every few weeks to perv down my top and say stupid things I already know."

Tissaia hates this unknown agent with the heat of a thousand suns. "I- that's-"

"Listen, enough of the smalltalk," Yennefer carries on. "I _need_ to see you. I've been going out of my mind all morning. I can't stop thinking about you."

Letting out a measured sigh of relief that she's not the only one, Tissaia nods. "Me too," she admits. "I haven't been able to focus at all."

There are some fringe theories about some mystical hormone that is released when two soulmates meet, but nobody has ever been able to isolate it, or identify where it is produced. Although, Tissaia has to admit, it no longer feels completely outside the realm of possibility, given her own experience.

"It's mental, isn't it?" Yennefer muses. "I'm just about to get back on the train. Where will we meet? I know I said I'd take you to dinner, but I can't wait that long to see you. Late lunch?"

"Yes," Tissaia answers without thinking about work or anything else. She shakes her head. She's _never_ taken a sick day. She deserves this. "There's a little Italian just round the corner from the station, on-"

"Hope Street? Yeah, I know it. I can be there in an hour?"

"Perfect," Tissaia says and Yennefer makes an odd sound. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice is."

Heat starts climbing up Tissaia's neck, but she's unsure if it's embarrassment or something else. "Oh?" she manages.

"Yep. I was thinking I'd love to listen to you read my book aloud," Yennefer says, her own voice dipping to a lower register. "My words in your mouth would be _intensely_ sexy."

"That's, um-" Tissaia swallows. "I'd like to read your book. Aloud or otherwise." Fairies and magic aren't really her reading material of choice, but she's curious to discover what imagery Yennefer's brain conjures up.

"I'd love that," Yennefer says. "Well, as much as I'd love to stay on the line and listen to your amazing voice the whole way back, I'm sort of juggling about sixteen different things and I need to get through the ticket barrier so-"

"I'll let you go, then." Tissaia says. "I don't want you to injure yourself twice in one day."

"Injure _myself_?" Yennefer laughs. "Oh, so that's the line you're taking, is it?" She snorts. "Don't worry, I'll be on the lookout for any diminutive scientists not watching where they're going."

Tissaia huffs at the comment on her height, but lets it pass. "I'll see you soon." Again, she gets a rush of pure joy at the mere thought.

"See you soon. Oh! Hang on. I forgot to ask you what my married name is going to be."

Tissaia frowns. "I...don't-"

"Your surname, Tissaia," Yennefer says, her voice warm with amusement. "What's your last name?"

"Oh!" Tissaia rolls her eyes at her own obtuseness. "De Vries. Tissaia De Vries."

"Yennefer De Vries," Yennefer says, as if testing it out. "That has a nice ring to it."

"How do you know we'd use my name?" Tissaia asks, even though hearing Yennefer use her last name was intoxicating. "What's yours?"

"Vengerberg," Yennefer says. "I might keep it as my professional name, but I have no attachment to it." She makes a dismissive sound. "It would be good riddance, to tell you the truth."

Making a mental note to ask more about that later, Tissaia instead focuses on the other part of this conversation that needs to be addressed. "You do realise we've spent less than twenty minutes in each other's company and we're discussing marriage. That's ridiculous."

"That's destiny for you, babe," Yennefer says. "No point in fighting it. You're stuck with me for life now."

It's true. She's heard rumours of soulmates splitting up, of their tattoos fading as they grow apart, but they're more urban legend than documented fact. Soulmates stay together. She has Yennefer now, and they'll be together forever. It's a bizarre and thrilling thought.

"Fine," Tissaia concedes. "Discussion to be continued at a later date. Now go and catch your train."

"Hmmm. Your voice is even sexier when you're being all authoritative."

"Yennefer!" Tissaia can't help but laugh. "Go!"

"Yes ma'am. Bye!"

"Bye." Tissaia hangs up, fully aware of the stupid smile she's wearing.

Before she can change her mind or second guess her decision, she loads her necessities into her bag and grabs her coat from its hook. She strides out into the lab, trying not to make eye contact with people. This will probably only add more fuel to the fire that she's gone mad, but she doesn't care. Triss heads over and falls in step with her.

"Are you going to meet Yennefer?" she asks, keeping her voice low.

"Yes," Tissaia tells her. "If anyone asks, tell them I'm feeling a little under the weather and have decided to go home."

"Believe me, after earlier, that will not be a hard sell," Triss says. They reach the door and Triss squeezes her elbow, emitting a high pitched sound that makes Tissaia wince. "This is so exciting! I've never seen you like this!"

"Yes, well." Tissaia clears her throat. "That's no surprise as I've never felt like this before." She sighs. "Listen to me. I sound like one of _those_ people."

"Which people?" Triss asks.

She rolls her eyes. "People who've found their soulmate."

"Well, you _are_ one of those people now," Triss points out. "And you better not keep her waiting. So go. Enjoy pulling a sickie for once in your life. I'll cover for you."

Tissaia frowns. "Triss, I do hope you know that I'd never encourage the use of sick days for-"

"Go!" Triss commands. "Go and see your girl. And then come in tomorrow and tell me all about it." She rubs at her bicep, where her own tattoo sits. "I need to live vicariously."

"Very well." Tissaia hesitates. "And thank you for your earlier concern. And for listening to me go on about all of this."

"Tissaia-" Triss starts, her voice carrying a warning.

"I'm going! I'm going!"

With a final grateful smile, she heads out of the building and off to the train station to meet the love of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It _was_ only supposed to be two chapters, but it felt unbalanced, so there's a third (and definitely final) chapter coming.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's (sort of vague) sex stuff in this part. Skip it if you're not into that.

Now armed with Yennefer's surname, Tissaia uses her train journey to do a little googling. She discovers that Yennefer has written a series of Young Adult novels, and a couple of standalone ones. The protagonist in her series is a half elf girl, born with a twisted spine who breaks free from an abusive household to go on adventures and saves the world. She orders all of them.

After a brief hesitation, questioning whether it is considered intrusive, she searches for Yennefer's social media accounts. They're public, so Tissaia decides it's fine for her to have a look. Yennefer's twitter account - @ _yenven_ \- is a mixture of promotion of her novels, political views and the odd retweet of funny videos or cute pictures of cats.

Tissaia flicks over to her instagram and finds herself smiling at pictures of Yennefer making stupid faces and laughing with different people. Three individuals appear more than any others; a stunning blonde who is very fond of showing off her impressive cleavage, a serious but handsome man with white hair, and another man who seems to be in various states of inebriation in all of the pictures.

She scrolls down further and frowns when she sees a picture of the busty blonde with Yennefer's face buried in the aforementioned cleavage. Something ugly prickles in her chest, but she pushes it down. Yennefer is her soulmate. Nothing can change that now, or ever. She cannot begrudge her a past. She quickly scrolls on and stops when she lands on a picture of Yennefer, looking at the camera and smiling. Tissaia opens it and stretches it so Yennefer's face fills her screen, her smile only for her. She traces over her lips with her thumb, remembering how it felt to have them pressed against her own.

She shudders.

Quickly, she closes down the app and shakes her head. It will do her no good to get worked up on a train. She wets her lips and swallows, turning to look out of the window at the buildings whizzing past to distract herself from thoughts of long dark hair and intense eyes.

* * *

She arrives a little early at the restaurant and decides to wait outside. She is not a fan of causing a scene, and she has a feeling that her reunion with Yennefer will qualify as 'a scene'. She assumes there will be kissing, at the very least, which should take place before they go in. So she waits.

"Tissaia!"

She turns to see Yennefer jogging towards her, waving. She inhales sharply. Her memories and the instagram pictures pale in comparison to the real thing. She takes a moment to note what Yennefer is wearing; skinny blue jeans with a loose white shirt tucked into the waistband and a black blazer on top. Simplicity itself, elevated to haute couture by the body it adorns.

"Yenn-mmmph." Her mouth is suddenly occupied as Yennefer is kissing her, while gentle hands cradle her face. Tissaia's bag slips from her shoulder and she wraps her arms around Yennefer's waist, pulling her closer. Again, the feeling of rightness washes over her, settling any worries or concerns she may have had and filling her up with warmth.

When they part, Yennefer smiles down at her. "Hey."

"Hello."

Tissaia frowns, her eyes drawn to the purple blemish beside Yennefer's eyebrow. She brushes her thumb over it. "It's bruised."

"It's _fine_ ," Yennefer tells her. "It doesn't even hurt unless I press it."

"Why would you press it?" Tissaia asks, her fingertips tracing the tiny wound in the centre of a fairly impressive bruise.

"To see if it hurts," Yennefer says, as if this should be obvious.

Tissaia smiles, slipping a hand behind Yennefer's beck, beneath her hair, and urging her head down so that she can press a kiss to the mark. Yennefer's hands tighten on Tissaia's waist and she lets out a sound that Tissaia very much wants to hear her make again, under different circumstances.

"Better?" Tissaia asks, tilting Yennefer's face up.

"Much," Yennefer says, leaning in for the softest kiss Tissaia's ever experienced.

"We should go in," Tissaia says when they part this time. "Or we might not make it to lunch."

"Would that be so terrible?" Yennefer mutters, against her cheek.

Tissaia sighs and closes her eyes, as Yennefer's lips journey along her jaw. She's not sure she'll be able to eat, if she's honest. Everything inside her is in turmoil and _all_ her body wants is to be touching Yennefer.

"Y-yes," she manages, her hands finding Yennefer's neck and encouraging her to lift her head. She blinks to clear her thoughts. "Call me old fashioned, but I like to spend at least an hour in someone's company before I invite them back to my house."

Yennefer's eyebrows shoot up. "So there _will_ be an invitation back to your house?"

Tissaia tilts her head and smiles. "It will depend on how good your conversation skills are, I suppose."

"Oh, I'm a _great_ conversationalist," Yennefer says, taking her arm and leading her inside the restaurant where there are a couple of parties in front of them, waiting to be seated. "I put words together into sentences for a living, you know."

"I, uh, bought your books," Tissaia confesses, as they wait. "I hope you don't mind."

"You didn't have to do that," Yennefer tells her, but she looks pleased nonetheless. "I have copies I could have given you."

"The least I can do is support your career," Tissaia says. "You didn't mention you wrote for young people."

"So far, yeah," Yennefer says. "This latest book is my attempt to move into the adult market." She sucks in a breath through her teeth. "If I look absolutely petrified, it's because I am."

Having not read a single word Yennefer has written, Tissaia's not in a position to offer any meaningful comfort based on her talent. She settles for rubbing her arm and smiling. "Well, I'll let you know what I think once I've read the others."

Yennefer laughs and lets her hand slide down Tissaia's arm, linking their fingers together. "You know what? I actually appreciate that you didn't just tell me you were sure I'd be great or whatever."

"What good would that have done?" Tissaia frowns, tightening her grip on Yennefer's hand. "I'm sure you're confident enough in your own abilities that you don't need platitudes from me. And your reviews were very positive."

The couple in front of them is seated and they step forward, now first in the queue. "Okay, so you bought my books, read my reviews...any other stalking I should know about?"

"What?" Tissaia looks up sharply. "I wasn't! I was just-"

"I'm kidding, babe, it's fine." Yennefer says, squeezing her hand. "I had a look for you too, but you're locked down tight." She rolls her eyes. "Apart from your LinkedIn, half of which I couldn't even understand."

"Oh. Well." She nods. "I do have accounts, but I rarely use them." She bumps Yennefer with her shoulder. "Unlike you." Keeping her eyes forward and her voice light, she continues. "Who's the well endowed blonde in half of your photos?"

"Who? Sabrina?" Yennefer shrugs. "She's a mate. Why?"

"No reason." Tissaia says. Then, unable to help herself. "Do you often put your face in your friends' chests?"

"Oh my God," Yennefer's mouth is beside her ear, her voice low and enticing. "Are you _jealous_?"

"Of course not!" Tissaia tuts. "What you've done in your past is your business." That doesn't mean she won't be keeping an eye on this Sabrina.

"Everybody's had their face in her tits," Yennefer says, as if this is common practice. "It's like a rite of passage. No doubt she'll have you in there before long."

Tissaia almost chokes on thin air. " _What_?"

"Oh, don't worry, I'll make sure she gets your consent first."

"Why would I give my consent for _that_?" Tissaia asks, genuinely baffled as to why they're even having this conversation.

"Honestly, when you see them, you'll understand," Yennefer tells her, with a firm nod. "Your scientific curiosity will get the better of you."

Before she can reply, the waiter comes forward to greet them. "Table for two, ladies?"

"Yes, thanks," Yennefer says. He leads them towards a small table, but Yennefer taps his shoulder and points to the other side of the restaurant. "D'you think we could have a booth?"

His eyes drop to their joined hands and he smiles. "Of course."

They enter opposite sides of the booth he takes them to, and gravitate towards the centre until they are pressed against each other.

The waiter smiles as he lays the menus down in front of them. "You two found each other recently, I take it?"

"This morning," Yennefer tells him, without removing her gaze from Tissaia's.

Tissaia ducks her head and looks at him, not wanting to be rude. "Is it obvious?"

"You can always tell the new ones," he says, taking an order pad from his pocket. "Can't bear to be apart for any length of time. I remember it well."

"It fades, then?" Tissaia asks, partly in hope and partly in dread. She does want to be able to function in society, but equally she never wants this feeling to leave her. Yennefer's hand lands on her knee and squeezes.

The waiter's brow creases as he considers the question. "It doesn't fade, no. But you start to get used to it." He winks. "You're able to think a bit more clearly."

"Oh thank God," Tissaia whispers, and immediately turns to Yennefer. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant," Yennefer says. "You think I don't need my brain back as well?" She lifts an eyebrow. "I'm gonna have to debase myself by phoning Stregobor to see what I actually agreed to at that meeting today because I haven't got a fucking clue."

The waiter laughs. "Yeah, that level of brain fog will pass in a few weeks."

" _Weeks_?" Tissaia's voice is higher than she's ever heard it. "I can't be like this for weeks. I have...work, responsibilities."

"You want my advice?" He leans in. "Take a couple of weeks off, use up your annual leave. Just enjoy each other." He shakes his head. "You'll never get this time back, so cherish it."

He leaves and the pair of them look at one another. Yennefer tilts her head. "Could you do that?" she asks. "Take a couple of weeks off work?"

Tissaia frowns. She usually has to be reminded to use up her annual leave at the end of the year. Sometimes she's lost days because she's only allowed to carry over a certain number to the following year. Looking at Yennefer's hopeful face, and her heart seizes in her chest with desire to give her anything she wants.

"Yes," she nods. "I'll have to make a few arrangements, but-" She smiles. "Yes."

The smile she gets in return lights up the room, the world. "Yes?" Yennefer's eyes dip to her mouth and she starts to drift closer.

"Yes," Tissaia breathes, as their lips meet.

* * *

Lunch passes in a blur of conversation, laughter, stolen kisses and daring touches. More than once, Yennefer's hand creeps under the pencil skirt Tissaia's wearing and she has to catch it and scold her, which only seems to encourage this mischief.

"People are _looking_ ," she murmurs, keeping hold of Yennefer's hand this time so it can't move.

"So?" Yennefer grins. "I quite like that thought. Everybody looking at us, knowing that you're all mine and they can't have you." She leans in and kisses Tissaia's earlobe. "Kind of a rush."

Tissaia's rationality is at a low ebb, and declarations like this are doing nothing to help.

While Tissaia is aware that she's not abhorrent to look at, she's spent her life trying not to attract attention. Romantic entanglements not only risked someone seeing her tattoo, but were pointless in the long run, so she did her best to be left in peace. She dresses for practical and professional reasons, wears minimal make-up and shoves her hair up in a bun most days. So she's never felt particularly desirable. It's quite overwhelming to suddenly have the most beautiful person on the planet look at you with undisguised attraction and _want_.

"I'm sure it's the other way around," she says, deflecting the compliment.

Yennefer frowns at her and sits up. "What? No it's not." When Tissaia tries to look away, Yennefer's fingers catch her chin and keep her in place. "You are _gorgeous_."

"Yennefer," Tissaia complains. "Please don't-"

"You are _stunning_ ," Yennefer continues. "You are magnificent, and I'm going to keep telling you that until you believe it." When Tissaia rolls her eyes, Yennefer huffs. "Look, okay, fine, I'm biased. But objectively, you're still all of those things." She turns Tissaia's head to either side, appraising her.

"Do you want me to open my mouth so you can check my teeth?" Tissaia asks, amused.

"Your bone structure is exquisite," Yennefer says, tracing a finger along Tissaia's cheekbone. "The symmetry of your face would make you attractive in the vast majority of cultures. You've got the sweetest button nose, and this-" She runs her thumbnail along the cleft in Tissaia's chin. "-is ridiculously sexy." She sighs. "I want to fall into your eyes and stay there, and I can't wait to get your hair out of that bun so I can run my fingers through it." Tissaia smiles, and Yennefer presses a thumb to her cheek. "And to top it all off, you've got fucking _dimples_." She leans in and kisses Tissaia's nose, lingering close to whisper. "I want you so badly, I can barely think."

The rough edge to Yennefer's voice hits Tissaia low in her belly and she closes her eyes, swallowing with difficulty. She steadies her breathing and pulls back to meet Yennefer's eyes.

"I think we should get the bill."

Yennefer smiles.

* * *

The taxi journey is interminable, even though the restaurant is no more than a ten minute drive from Tissaia's house. Yennefer fidgets the whole way. She drums her fingers on the door, then links them with Tissaia's. She buries her face against Tissaia's neck, whispering hot words against her skin.

When they finally arrive, Tissaia throws some money at the driver and hurries up the path, with Yennefer right behind her. She barely has time to open the front door before Yennefer is shoving her inside, turning to pin her against the door once it is closed behind them.

Tissaia's body is alive with sensation. She grasps at Yennefer, pulling her closer and pressing forward. She slides her hands under her blazer, sliding them up her sides and pushing the jacket off to land at their feet before shrugging out of her own. Yennefer allows this, planting breathless, sloppy kisses on her face all the while. With the jacket gone, Tissaia grabs a handful of Yennefer's shirt and pulls it out of her jeans, slipping her hand beneath to find a whole new expanse of skin to be explored.

While she's mapping out this new territory with her fingertips, Yennefer's hands move from her hips, hiking her blouse with them. The blouse starts to slip free of her skirt. Instinct kicks in and she tenses, taking a step back and coming into contact with the door.

"Shit, sorry!" Yennefer says, her hands immediately leaving Tissaia's body. "I didn't mean-" She takes a step back. "Listen, if this is too fast, or you don't want to-"

"No!" Tissaia grabs Yennefer before she can move further away, pulling her in until her chest is straining against Yennefer's with every breath. "Believe me, Yennefer, wanting this, wanting _you_ , is not in question."

Yennefer's hands return to Tissaia's hips, though her grip is looser this time, and then around to her back resting exactly where her tattoo is. She tilts her head. "Okay. Then do you want to tell me what the problem is?"

There's no censure in her voice, nor frustration. Just a genuine need to understand.

"Me," Tissaia whispers. "I'm the problem." She leans in, resting her forehead on Yennefer's shoulder so she doesn't need to look at her while she speaks. "I'm not very...experienced, with this sort of thing. Especially in recent years."

"That's okay," Yennefer murmurs against her ear. "You won't have forgotten how to do it, I'm sure. It's like riding a bike."

Tissaia lets out a rueful laugh, tightening her arms for a moment. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Disapp-" Yennefer urges her to lift her head, so they're looking into each other's eyes. "You will _not_ disappoint me. Okay?" She gestures to how they're standing, their arms tight around one another. "I feel more from just doing this with you than I ever have from sex. If all you wanted to do this evening was this, I would be happy. Okay?"

"Do you really mean that?" Tissaia asks, already knowing it's the truth. It's like Yennefer's eyes are a direct line to her heart and Tissaia can read everything in them.

"Yes," Yennefer answers with no hesitation. She swallows, looking down. "Look, you'll get to hear my whole tragic backstory at some point I'm sure, but the bullet point version is that I had a really shitty childhood. My stepdad was an abusive arsehole. I was in and out of care homes and foster families." She inhales through her nose and blows it out through her mouth before lifting her gaze. "I've never felt like I fitted in anywhere. I- I think that's why I write, you know? So I can create worlds that are just mine, where I make the rules." Yennefer cups her cheek, offering a tentative smile. "I've never known what 'home' felt like until today. Until I touched you."

By the time she's finished speaking, Tissaia's insides are swirling in a hurricane of rage at all the people in Yennefer's life who have made her feel this way. She blinks back tears and shakes her head, then leans in and kisses Yennefer, trying to chase away those memories and replace them with just this. Just them.

"Listen," Yennefer whispers, when their lips part momentarily. "I told you that stuff to make you see that just being near you is enough for me. So, please don't do this just because you feel sorry for me,"

"I'm not doing it because I feel sorry for you," Tissaia says, pulling back. "I want to be with you. My body is screaming for it. It's my mind that's a little more hesitant."

Yennefer smiles and taps Tissaia's forehead. "If your big science brain is telling you to slow down, maybe we should listen to it."

Sighing, Tissaia decides that being frank is the only option. She forces herself to hold Yennefer's gaze as she speaks. "No-one's seen my tattoo since I was fourteen."

She watches as realisation washes the smile from Yennefer's face. "Oh."

"Actually, nobody's seen me without clothes since I was fourteen." The admission comes easier than she thought it might, after Yennefer's truth. "So, now you know." She nods. "if I'm nervous, it's not because of you. It's just...the circumstances."

She doesn't expect Yennefer's big eyes to fill with tears, or for her chin to tremble. Tissaia frowns, the instinct to make things better quite overwhelming. She brings her hands to Yennefer's face, stroking her cheeks and catching her tears when they fall.

"Oh my goodness, what's all this?" she murmurs. "Don't cry." She presses a kiss to Yennefer's wet cheek. "Don't cry."

"It _is_ because of me, though, isn't it?" Yennefer says, sniffing and wiping angrily at her face. "Those words, _my_ words; they're the reason you've-" Her voice catches on a sob.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Tissaia tells her, lifting her chin up and looking into her eyes. "That's in the past. I...I _want_ you to see it." She swallows. "I want you to see me." Even as she says it, her stomach lurches at the thought. Although, there is something beneath the nerves.

Yennefer inhales a shuddering breath and lets it out slowly, watching Tissaia the whole time.

"You're absolutely sure?" she asks. "I meant what I said; we can stop now. Chuck a film on and have a cuddle on the couch."

"I'm sure," Tissaia says, punctuating her assurance with a soft kiss. She takes Yennefer's hand and slides it under her blouse until it's touching her bare skin, sitting on top of her tattoo. Her breathing speeds up at the gentle caress, and she smiles at Yennefer, nodding. "I'm sure. Let's go upstairs."

They climb the staircase in silence, holding hands. Tissaia leads Yennefer to her bedroom.

"We'll go slowly," Yennefer says, after Tissaia closes the door. She takes hold of Tissaia's waist, pulling her in and kissing her cheek, her jaw. "Anything you don't like, anything you don't want, just tell me. Or if you want to stop-"

"Yennefer," Tissaia says, pushing her face back and giving her an affectionate smile. "I promise I'll tell you to stop if need be, if you promise me the same."

"I promise." Yennefer slides her hands back up under Tissaia's blouse, and then just below the waistband of her skirt, scratching gently at her lower back. "Your tattoo is here, isn't it?"

"Yes," Tissaia whispers.

Yennefer nods, her hands moving all the time over Tissaia's skin. "Take my shirt off," she says.

With shaking hands, Tissaia undoes the buttons of Yennefer's shirt until it hangs open, she asks with a look if she can remove it, and receives a nod. She pushes the garment off Yennefer's shoulders, leaving her in only a cream bra. She bends to press her nose to Yennefer's sternum and turns so her cheek is against the top of her breast, it is soft and pliant and she'd forgotten how impossibly soft another woman's skin could feel against her own.

"You can touch me," Yennefer tells her, softly. "Anywhere you want to."

Tissaia lifts her head and looks up at her, her hands gliding up Yennefer's back to settle on her bra clasp. "Can I take this off?"

"Yes," Yennefer says, her eyes growing darker. "Please."

She undoes the clasp and takes the straps from Yennefer's shoulders, letting the bra fall between them, revealing more of Yennefer to her. She brushes a kiss just beside Yennefer's nipple, enjoying the sharp intake of breath from above. Cupping Yennefer's left breast, she runs her thumb over a stiff nipple, and takes the right one into her mouth, swirling her tongue over and around it, sucking gently. Yennefer stumbles and Tissaia pulls away, looking up in concern.

"What is it?" she asks.

"N-nothing." Yennefer licks her lips and shakes her head. "Just...you know when I said after we kissed that sex was going to be something else?" Tissaia nods. "Well, I just got my first taste of it and, Christ, I don't know how I'm going to survive this."

Tissaia grins in relief, glad she hadn't done anything wrong. She lifts a hand to cup Yennefer's cheek and pulls her into a kiss, her hand moving back to her breast. She swallows the whimper Yennefer lets out and smiles against her mouth. She pulls away enough to whisper. "Take my top off."

Yennefer doesn't need to be told twice, her nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons on Tissaia's blouse and it is soon sliding from her body. Those same fingers hover at her bra clasp and she nods her agreement against Yennefer's shoulder. It follows the blouse to the floor. Yennefer's arms go around her waist, pulling her in and bringing them flush against one another. Having Yennefer's skin against her nipples is exquisite torture and she tries to move, to increase the friction.

She whines when Yennefer inserts an arm between them, working at the button on her own jeans until it comes loose.

"Take them off," Yennefer murmurs, but Tissaia's already doing just that.

She shoves them roughly past Yennefer's hips, bending to push them down her legs and allow her to step free. Yennefer stands in nothing but a pair of black, lacy knickers and Tissaia thinks she might be about to hyperventilate as she looks up at her. She has no idea where to start, she wants to touch everywhere at once. Yennefer holds out hand and she takes it, standing up and moving back into a now familiar embrace.

Again, Yennefer's hands fall to her lower back, fingers sitting below her waistband. "Can I see?" she whispers.

Although she still feels that kneejerk instinct to say no, to cover herself and flee, it's dampened. She feels safe here, in Yennefer's arms. She knows without doubt that seeing those words isn't going to repulse the other woman. So she nods, and lifts her face for a kiss - a final fortification - before turning around. Yennefer's hands stay on her body the whole time, for which she's grateful. They move to her hips, thumb tracing what Tissaia imagines must be the top of the 'F'. That's usually all that's visible above the clothing she chooses.

Then Yennefer is holding her again, breasts pressed against her back, lips warm on her shoulder, then her neck. "Remember, stop me if you feel uncomfortable."

Tissaia nods, turning to capture Yennefer's lips with her own before she can withdraw. "I want you to see all of me," she says. Yennefer rests her forehead against Tissaia's as she pulls down the zip of her skirt. It falls away easily. Tissaia closes her eyes when Yennefer's fingers hook into the waistband of her knickers, edging them slowly over her hips and down. She presses her lips to Tissaia's cheek.

"I'm going to look now, okay?"

Tissaia inhales and nods once, covering Yennefer's hand on her hip and squeezing. Yennefer moves away slightly and she immediately misses the warmth, the contact. She shivers when Yennefer's fingertip starts to trace the letters. It's like the tender touch is sending a bolt of lightning directly to the deepest part of her being, the heat settling in her core. Yennefer takes in a shaky breath behind her.

"I'm so sorry that you've spent your life covering this up," she says. "I'm so sorry that you've been holding part of yourself back because you were embarrassed by having this on your skin."

"Hey." She threads her fingers through Yennefer's and turns to look over her shoulder as best she can. "It's not your fault. As I said before, it was quite a relief to discover the context of the words. It was _my_ fault for knocking you over."

"No, but," Yennefer shakes her head, brow creased. "I wish I could've said something, I don't know, poetic, or romantic. Something you'd show off proudly."

"I _will_ show this off proudly, Yennefer." She smiles when she realises the truth of her words. She already told Triss what it said without a shred of her usual shame. "Now that I've met you, how could I do anything but? It will prove quite a story, I'm sure."

Yennefer meets her eyes and smiles. "If it's any consolation, I think it's beautiful." She traces each letter with the tip of her finger, swirling round the large 'S'. Tissaia feels the caress in every nerve ending in her body. Yennefer bends to replace her finger with her lips, kissing and licking her way round the script. Tissaia's so aroused it's almost painful. She _needs_ Yennefer in a way she's never needed anything or anyone.

"Yennefer," she moans. "Enough. Enough!"

Yennefer's head shoots up, eyes wide and worried. Tissaia turns and reaches for her, urging her into a kiss with a gentle hand behind her neck. "Sorry, I could have phrased that better. I just needed to touch you."

Yennefer lets out a breath. "Christ, Tissaia," she complains, as Tissaia kisses along her chin and jaw. "I nearly had a heart attack!" She closes her eyes, letting her head hang forward as Tissaia continues to kiss all over her face. "But I'll forgive you if you keep doing that."

"I very much plan on doing more than this," Tissaia mumbles, enjoying how Yennefer's skin feels under her lips. She turns them both and starts walking Yennefer backwards to the large bed until her thighs hit it and she sits down. "Move up, darling," Tissaia tells her. As Yennefer pushes herself up the bed, Tissaia uses the movement to remove Yennefer's knickers and throws them to the side, leaving them both completely naked now. She crawls up the bed, dropping kisses at various points on Yennefer's body until she's dragged up to kiss her properly. Every possible inch of their skin that could be touching, is touching. And yet it still feels like she's not close enough.

Tissaia pulls away, panting. "I want-" She shakes her head.

"Tell me what you want," Yennefer commands, her hands dancing across Tissaia's back before settling over her tattoo. "Whatever it is, I'll give it to you."

Tissaia lifts her head and looks down at Yennefer in wonder. That level of trust is terrifying, but she feels it too. If Yennefer asked her for the moon, she'd find a way to give it to her.

"I just-" She leans down for a kiss, drawing strength from the connection. "I want to touch every part of you."

A slow grin spreads over Yennefer's lips. "Is that all?" She opens her arms wide and squeezes her thighs around Tissaia's waist. "I'm all yours. Touch me anywhere. Everywhere."

And so she does. She lets her hands roam to wherever they please, and her tongue too. She revels in the tastes and textures of Yennefer's skin. She watches in wonder as Yennefer responds to everything she does, panting and whimpering and moaning her name. And when she finally enters Yennefer, it's like no other feeling she could name. Their eyes are locked as Tissaia moves in her, deeper and harder with every stroke until she comes apart with a strangled scream, clutching at Tissaia's back, scraping her nails across her tattoo. They fall into a tangled heap, then, breathless and damp with sweat.

Yennefer smiles and pulls her into a messy kiss, humming against her lips before she pulls away for air, rolling onto her back. Tissaia follows, settling herself into the crook of Yennefer's shoulder, an arm strewn across her stomach.

"Wow," Yennefer finally manages. "I thought you might have killed me a couple of times there."

Tissaia laughs, turning to bite the top of Yennefer's breast, gently, eliciting a yelp. "You weren't complaining at the time," she notes.

"No, I absolutely was not," Yennefer agrees. From nowhere, she rolls them over so she's on top of Tissaia, grinning down at her. "And neither will you be in a minute."

Tissaia lifts her hands to cradle Yennefer's face, taking in every inch of it, unable to remember what it was like not to know this woman. Her thumb brushes over the cut by Yennefer's eyebrow. "Can you believe it was only this morning I knocked you over?" she asks.

"No." Yennefer dips her head for a kiss. "But I think I've known you my whole life, I just hadn't met you yet."

"That's a nice way to look at it." Tissaia smiles. "And we have our whole lives ahead of us."

"Mmhmm," Yennefer agrees, nuzzling Tissaia's ear. "But how about we just focus on the rest of the night for now?" She pulls back and smiles. "I plan to spend it finding out how to make you scream my name in your sexy as fuck voice."

Tissaia laughs, a full, throaty laugh that makes her chest feel light. She lowers her voice and murmurs against Yennefer's ear. "Then I suggest you get on with it."

And, for the first time in her life, Tissaia gives her body over to pleasure at the hands of another person. Yennefer is gentle and tender with her, taking her to heights she could never have imagined and holding her as she came down from them.

After many hours of enjoying each other, they finally pull the covers up and cuddle together, eyelids heavy and hearts full.

Tissaia falls asleep with those three little words running through her mind.

_Fuck me sideways._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will probably be a _tiny_ epilogue to come. And I do mean tiny.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wee epilogue.

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

"Tissaia!"

Tissaia turns from her conversation with Jaskier and Geralt and smiles at Triss, beckoning her to join them. She takes a sip from her glass of champagne and then accepts the hug Triss gives her before she moves on to the two men to do the same. Triss had insisted on being introduced to Yennefer after reading her books, which gradually led to their social circles merging a little. Not that Tissaia had much of one to speak of, but her few dear friends have all been delighted for her, and are very taken with Yennefer. If anything, Calanthe is a little _too_ taken with her, at times.

"Oh my God, this is exciting, isn't it?" Triss is almost bouncing beside her as she glances around the packed bookshop.

"Oh, you know, once you've been to one book launch, you've been to them all," Jaskier says with a sigh. "I'm here for the booze." He dips his head in a little bow to Tissaia and Triss. "And the dazzling company, of course."

"Perhaps if you'd read Yennefer's books, you'd find them more interesting," Geralt puts in.

Jaskier waves him off. "I had enough teen angst of my own without reading about someone else's, thank you very much."

"This new one isn't about teenagers," Tissaia tells him. "It's a beautiful story of, well, self-discovery, really."

Jaskier wrinkles his nose "So, lots of lady wanking then?"

"Jaskier," Geralt warns, but Tissaia knows them well enough by now to take Jaskier's dismissive words with a pinch of salt. She knows he's proud of Yennefer in his own way. He just shows it through sarcasm, generally.

"I'm still _so_ jealous you've read it and I haven't," Triss says, with a fake pout. "It's not fair!"

"You'll get a copy today," Tissaia assures her. "And no doubt you'll have read it before the night is out."

Warm hands land on her hips and a familiar body presses against her back. "Hey gorgeous," Yennefer says, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "Triss! I'm so glad you made it!"

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," Triss tells her. "I can't wait to get my hands on the new book."

Yennefer's hands tighten on her body, betraying her nerves. Tissaia covers Yennefer's right hand with her own, threading their fingers together. She smiles at the rest of the group.

"Would you excuse us for a moment?"

"Quickie in the sci-fi section?" Jaskier nods. "Don't blame you, love." He bumps Geralt's arm. "Why aren't you spontaneous like that?"

Geralt just grunts.

Tissaia shakes her head as she leads Yennefer away. "There will be no quickies in any section, thank you very much."

"Awwww," Yennefer whines.

Tissaia leads her behind some shelving in the history section and turns to face her, taking hold of both of her hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, you know," Yennefer rolls her eyes. "Like I'm going to vomit and or faint at any given moment, but fine aside from that."

Ignoring this attempt at deflection, Tissaia pulls Yennefer closer, wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her head on her shoulder. Yennefer's heart is beating against her cheek, and as they stand together, it gradually slows. Tissaia rubs her back, swaying them both slightly, before lifting her head to look up at her. "This evening is going to be amazing," she tells Yennefer. "The book is wonderful, and you bring it to life whenever you read it out loud. People will love it."

"What if they don't, though?" Yennefer asks, catching her lower lip in her teeth, eyebrows tilted. "I'm not used to dealing with adults." She gestures back in the direction they came. "Usually when I do these things the room is full of teenage girls who already worship me. These people are proper grown-ups and I'm not sure I can stand up and read my book to them."

"You _can_ ," Tissaia says, firmly. "After everything you've gone through to get here? All you've achieved for yourself?" She scoffs. "This is nothing." She goes up on her toes to press a kiss to Yennefer's lips. "This is your time, darling, to let everyone see how brilliant you are. So forget everything else, and just go out there and shine."

As she speaks, the tension falls from Yennefer's face, leaving her smile free to come out in full force. "I love you," she murmurs, moving in for a kiss, which Tissaia grants her easily.

"Better?" Tissaia asks, after another kiss or two.

"Much." Yennefer rests her forehead against Tissaia's, arms still loosely around her waist. "I was thinking earlier, you know how they advise you to imagine everybody in the audience in the nude when you're public speaking so you won't be nervous?"

"Mmhmmm," Tissaia smiles, already having an inkling where this is going.

"Well, I'm just going to imagine you naked, sitting in the front row," Yennefer says. "That way I won't give a single fuck about anyone or anything else."

"If you think that will help, feel free," Tissaia says, her lips curling more when Yennefer sighs.

"Of _course_ it won't help," Yennefer complains. "How am I meant to concentrate on reading when I'm thinking about you naked?"

"Then I suppose you'll just have to wait until later, when you can see the real thing," Tissaia says. She cups Yennefer's cheek and meets her eyes. "And you'll be absolutely fine up there. No need to imagine anyone naked. Okay?"

"Yeah, you're right," Yennefer says. "I'm fucking brilliant."

"Exactly," Tissaia says, laughing. "And all these people are here to see _you_."

Yennefer is about to reply when someone pokes their head around the shelving and offers them an apologetic smile. "Sorry, we're looking to get started in a couple of minutes Ms Vengerberg, could we have you 'backstage', so to speak?"

"I'll be there in a minute," Yennefer tells her with a tight smile. When she's gone, she returns her attention to Tissaia. "The front row is reserved for you and Triss and the boys." She rolls her eyes. "There's a seat for Sabrina too, if she ever shows up."

"Okay." Tissaia's grown very fond of Sabrina, despite her initial reservations. Finding out she was a fellow scientist helped, although astrophysics and biochemistry are not natural bedfellows, they find much to discuss. She has, thus far, avoided being thrust into her cleavage, however. She squeezes Yennefer's hands. "Go on. Time for you to explode onto the adult fantasy literary scene."

Yennefer nods and presses a final kiss to Tissaia's lips. "Meet me back here after the reading, yeah? Before the signing."

"I will."

Yennefer holds her hand as long as she can until they have to part ways, with Tissaia heading back through to the main part of the bookshop and Yennefer going wherever it is she was instructed to. Tissaia catches Triss' eye and nods to the front row of seats with 'Reserved' cards on them. Triss all but drags the men over with her, Jaskier has acquired two glasses of champagne and does his damndest not to spill either of them as Triss jostles him into position.

"Front row!" Triss squeaks. "This is amazing!"

"Triss, my little pumpkin, it's not a Lady Gaga concert," Jaskier says, taking the seat at the far end of the row of five and tugging Geralt down next to him.

"No, it's _better_ ," Tissaia says, narrowing her eyes at Jaskier until he holds his drinks up in surrender. She sits down next to Geralt and Triss takes the seat beside her, leaving the aisle seat free.

Someone comes out onto the little stage area and announces they'll be starting in a minute and asks everyone to take their seats. Despite her reassurances to Yennefer earlier, Tissaia's own stomach is alive with butterflies. She distracts herself by listening to Triss talk about Yennefer's last YA book and its themes, when a hand taps Triss on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Triss freezes mid-sentence, her eyes growing round and her mouth forming an 'Oh'. Tissaia looks up and presses her lips together to stop from laughing when she sees who's standing there. Triss turns and looks up at her potential soulmate.

"Oh God, please let it be you," she mutters.

Sabrina's eyes widen. She quickly rolls her sleeve up to reveal the writing on her wrist.

_Oh God, please let it be you._

Triss shrugs her cardigan off one shoulder, showing the script that curls around her bicep, matching Sabrina's enquiry.

_Excuse me, is this seat taken?_

Tissaia smiles as Sabrina collapses into the free chair, her eyes locked with Triss' and a smile softer than Tissaia's ever seen adorning her lips. In the six months she's known Yennefer, Triss and Sabrina have somehow never ended up in each other's company until now. Until they were _meant_ to.

She watches as Triss tentatively reaches for Sabrina's hand, both of them gasping when their skin makes contact. Tissaia thinks about leaning over and telling Geralt of this new development, but then Jaskier would find out and there would almost definitely be a scene, and today should be about Yennefer.

So she leaves them be, and turns her attention to the front, where someone from Yennefer's publisher has come on to announce her. Warm applause greets her when she moves onto the stage, behind the podium. Tissaia can tell from her body language that some of the nerves have crept back in, so she catches her eye and smiles, nodding. Yennefer smiles in return, giving her a wink, her shoulders losing some of their rigidness.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming along today," Yennefer begins. She squints out into the audience. "I don't _think_ all of you are related to me, so some of you must be here by choice." A soft ripple of amusement goes through the crowd. "I'm going to read a few passages from my new book for you." She swallows. "It's my first foray into writing for people older than fifteen, and it's also-" She falters, and looks to Tissaia, who wishes she could do more than smile and nod. But it seems to do the job, and Yennefer is able to continue. "-it's a really personal story for me, so I hope you'll forgive me if I'm a bit nervous." She gets another little round of applause and a few shouts of encouragement. With a final glance at Tissaia, she opens the book in front of her. "Okay, here goes."

The reading is beautiful. Yennefer's attachment to the material comes through in every heartfelt word, bringing the imagery and emotions to life. The audience is captivated by her, as is Tissaia herself, and there is silence in the room apart from Yennefer's voice. When she finishes, it is to rapturous applause and a standing ovation, which Tissaia isn't sure is a normal thing to happen at these events. Yennefer blushes and bows her head to the crowd, waiting for the noise to die down before speaking again.

"Thank you so much." Her choked voice brings tears to Tissaia's eyes. "Honestly, you don't know what that means to me." She clears her throat. "I'll be doing a signing in a few minutes, and then afterwards there's a Q and A session in the café for those who haven't had enough of me by then. I hope I'll see some of you there, and thank you again."

She leaves the stage, nodding for Tissaia to follow her. Tissaia turns to tell Triss where she's going, but finds her almost straddling Sabrina as they kiss enthusiastically. Well, she can't blame them for that. She tells Geralt where she's going instead, and points out what's happening at the other end of the row. Jaskier almost falls off his seat in excitement.

"Fucking hell," he says. "Sweet Triss and our Sabrina? Who'd have thunk it?" He tilts his head. "I'm in favour."

Tissaia leaves them to it, returning to the area they'd snuck off to earlier. Yennefer is waiting for her, hands behind her back and a lopsided smile in place.

"How do you think it went?" she asks.

"I think it was obvious how it went," Tissaia says. "You were amazing. Just as I said you would be."

Yennefer rolls her eyes. "Well, you're biased, so I can hardly rely on that, can I?" Before Tissaia can dispute this, Yennefer carries on. "Listen, I wanted to make sure you got the first signed copy of the book, away from prying eyes."

Tilting her head, Tissaia grins, touched by the gesture. "Good, because I still can't believe I haven't even _seen_ a finished copy of this alleged book."

"There was a reason for that," Yennefer confesses.

Tissaia frowns. "Oh? So not problems at the printers, then?"

"That was a tiny white lie," Yennefer says, leading her over to a display table and producing a copy of the book from behind her back. She lays it down on the table. Tissaia's seen the cover art before, and she's read the manuscript, but there's something about seeing the finished article that steals the breath from her lungs. It's _real_. She runs her fingers over the raised lettering of the title; _Controlling Chaos_.

"It's beautiful," she whispers, allowing her fingers to trace all over the cover.

"This is, uh-" Yennefer opens the cover and flips on a few pages. "This is why I didn't want you to see a copy before today." She reveals the dedication page and Tissaia's throat tightens.

_For Tissaia._

_My life. My love. My everything._

Tissaia tries very hard to blink back tears, but isn't entirely successful. She laughs, wiping at her face, and reaches out with trembling fingers to touch the printed letters.

"Darling, I-" She sniffs and turns to cup Yennefer's cheek. "I don't even know what to say. Thank you."

"I haven't even signed it yet," Yennefer says, her voice rough. She catches Tissaia's hand in her own and presses a kiss to her wrist before moving in and producing a pen. Tissaia watches over her shoulder as she writes underneath the printed dedication in her distinctive, looping script

_Yours always, Yennefer x_

Tissaia is about to return the sentiment out loud, but Yennefer keeps writing, her hand a little less steady.

_P.S._

Tissaia frowns, wondering what could possibly come next.

_Will you-_

Tissaia sucks in a breath, grabbing Yennefer's arm with both hands as she adds the final two words.

_-marry me?_

She takes a moment to compose herself. She takes Yennefer's chin in her hand, turning her face gently and leaning in to kiss her. Wordlessly, she removes the pen from her hand and writes in her own much more compact and neat handwriting, the only answer there was ever going to be to that question.

_Yes._


	5. Post-fic instagram posts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some insta posts from this 'verse.


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